


Clothes Sharing.

by ceeba



Series: Drabbles [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:12:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3782752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceeba/pseuds/ceeba





	Clothes Sharing.

Ian gets cold a lot when he’s low. On the days he can’t get out of bed, can’t even really move, he curls up in his sheets and shakes and shivers and Mickey watches on, helpless and pathetic. He can’t touch him, can’t try and warm him up. Sometimes it’s ok, but sometimes it freaks Ian out and so he doesn’t risk it, not until Ian asks.

Today isn’t so bad because Ian is talking, just a little. He doesn’t come out from under the covers, but Mickey is close enough to hear him, always is.

“M'cold, Mick.”

It always hurts to hear Ian’s voice so quiet, so weak – it’s such a horrible comparison to the usual loudness – but Mickey is learning that it doesn’t fucking matter what hurts him about the whole fucking mess, not when Ian is so messed up with whatever is happening in his brain that he can’t even move. So he ignores the twinge in his chest, unzips the hoodie he’s wearing and sniffs at it. Clean enough. He slots it through a gap in the duvet, and then climbs in after it. Ian doesn’t open his eyes, but he doesn’t protest either when Mickey eases him into the jumper, zips it up around him. He watches Ian’s closed eyelids for a moment before going to make his retreat.

Except Ian reaches for his wrist, holds him there with him. He doesn’t speak, but Mickey’s getting pretty good at reading between the lines these days. So he settles in next to Ian, wraps his arms around Ian’s shivering body, rubs his hands across his back. He presses his nose into Ian’s neck, inhales just a little bit.

 

 

Ian perks up again in the next few weeks, is bouncing around and grinning and making Mickey feel like he could fucking float away with it all. Ian goes home for a night, spends some time with his family while he feels up to it, and Mickey goes to meet him there the next day. He’s a fucking idiot, because he goes so early that no one is even awake yet. Can’t help it. He doesn’t sleep so well when Ian isn’t in their bed anymore, can’t stop the irrational worrying. He heads in despite the silence, goes to annoy Ian into coming back with him already, coming _home_.

Ian is just waking up, all confused and dopey. Mickey thinks that this is when he likes him best, apart from every other fucking second of every other fucking day. He rolls over and spots Mickey and this dumb, sleepy grin spreads across his face like maybe Ian has missed him, too, and Mickey wants to roll his eyes but all that happens is he smiles back. _Shit_. Ian pushes the covers away, an invitation, and Mickey freezes when he sees that Ian is wearing that damn hoodie, the one Mickey had helped him into when he was low last week. He has it wrapped around him like a fucking security blanket.

“You stealin’ my fucking clothes, man?” Mickey asks, trying his best to sound mad about it and keep the smile out of his voice.

And maybe Ian is fucking adorable when he’s waking up but he’s also painfully honest and Mickey should expect it by now but he’s never fucking ready for it. “Still smells like you. Couldn’t sleep without it.”

And Mickey is so far gone he doesn’t even care, just climbs into the bed and cuddles the shit out of his sleepy boyfriend. Just because.


End file.
